


An Email to Maedhros

by Levirena



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (and he really likes Black metal), (and later surprisingly he got an reply), (because Mandos is Wifi-ed), M/M, Maglor is still alive, The only one I wrote in English, also Thranduil is really good at making money, and he has access to Internet, and he sent Maedhros an email, but that would be another story, here Maglor is just talking about his life in this modern world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levirena/pseuds/Levirena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mandos has wifi now!<br/>see the additional tags for main plot : )<br/>English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes I made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Email to Maedhros

Dear Maitimo,

(I think I will call you Maitimo for the moment, though I can hardly understand how you, in the Hall of Waiting, managed to get access to Internet built by Men. )

 

We haven't seen each other for quite a long time. I hope everything is going well with you. 

 

 

The lands and oceans have witnessed great changes in the past ages. Surprisingly we are able to get in touch to each other in this way. These techniques are beyond comprehension for our people. But there are few now; elves in Imladris went to the West thousand years ago. It was around a hundred years ago when I met Thranduil, son of Oropher, Elvenking in Mirkwood in the Third age the last time. He was busy with making a profit from the Great Depression (a financial crisis may be difficult for you to understand. I shall elaborate on the history of human in the days to come). But I have never heard of him since then. 

 

 

I was wearied by the restless conflicts among Men. Obviously few of them recalled the unnumbered tears shed in the ancient days, for the war of the jewels. They were killing and killed for something else: territory, resource, “freedom.” New weapons were made; I saw the white mushroom cloud raised from an island in the East. In the beginning I tried to stop, or at least, rescue the innocent ones. But I had to admit, _our war ended long, long time ago._  

 

 

I miss you so much. 

 

I spent thousand years wandering upon the sea shores, and with the waves washing against the rocks, I, gradually, got used to isolation. I missed you also in the ancient days when we were stationed in the gap, when I looked up to the lights aloof yet shining on Himring. That was a time of hope; I aspired to visit you at the end of our war, and certainly, with my heptachord and my new scores. Actually I harbored no aversion to the everlasting winter in the North. After all, light of life was still there, even with despair so close to us. 

 

I learn to play new musical instruments invented by the Men (for example, a portable string instrument named guitar). The new types of music, like rock, R&B, Dark Metal, they are fascinating. I hope you can hear that one day. 

 

I know your whereabouts not, the halls between life and death I suppose? Please send my regards to the family and friends.  Forgive me for not joining you soon.  I think I am willing to continue this life, for this new world has triggered the desire for exploration in my tired heart again. One day, I will share all these tales with you.

 

 

**PS：**

If that's not Maitimo, and if you can't get this mail, please forgive my inappropriateness and delete it, for blind hope I still have, and down these words I have written.  Maitimo was, no, is my elder brother, and I miss him and my family dearly.  O stranger, I wish you and your loved ones the best.

 

 

With all my love,

Kanafinwe Makalaure


End file.
